


Lonely counting sheep

by Rococospade



Series: Fireballs and Fairydust [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Character Study, Drabble, Families of Choice, Four Swords Links as Siblings, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Insomnia, Male Sheik, Mother Cucco Sheik, Original Character(s), Self-Indulgent, Sheik is a Separate Character, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-20 19:24:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17628200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rococospade/pseuds/Rococospade
Summary: Sheik is having trouble sleeping. He handles it... maybe not the best way, but it makes him feel better to count his flock in the meantime.Drabble from the Fireballs and Fairydust verse.





	Lonely counting sheep

**Author's Note:**

> A character study that got a little out of hand. Pretty shameless and self-indulgent. May be edited for clarity/mistakes later.

The hour hand is pointing to a number higher than one and lower than is reasonable for him to be awake, and Sheik doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s up chasing his thoughts, or maybe they’re chasing him, and he’s handling that as well as ever – by focusing on something external, even if it’s just the other people in the house. Usually Sheik spends the quiet hours going from room to room to stand at the doorway and listen for breathing inside. He zeroes in on it with all of his attention, as if he looks away for a moment someone will disappear out of a window or stop breathing or... something unpleasant.

(… Well, they all had disappeared out of a window a few times, even uncle Aldhard. Sheik was still a bit cross about it.)

(The worst for sneaking out, though, had been the youngest. After the fifth time in two months they’d woken up to a call from the neighbor saying Red was eating breakfast there, uncle Aldhard had made Red switch rooms with Vio. It didn’t stop him leaving, but it did force him to walk past his father’s room _to_ leave, and that kept surprises to a minimum.)

Sheik figures it’s because Red is a lonely sort of person. He corroborates the hypothesis with the fact that every time Red had slipped out of his window it had been to go up the road and visit a friend’s house; the intention being to sleep there rather than at home.

It’s a weird thing to be lonely when you live in a loud, happy, loving house with five other people, but Sheik knows it when he sees it. Lonely looks back at him from a mirror every day, and he _gets_ it. Red doesn’t do so well by himself. Sheik does fine, but he’s lonely in a different sort of way.

Maybe it’s because Sheik and his twin, unlike _the_ twins (Blue and Green the ever present terrors, constantly fighting, constantly clinging, never apart long) don’t actually live attached at the hip. Belial has his city apartment and Sheik has the guest room of the Voss house out in the Ordona suburb. They’re content seeing each other once or twice a week and talking on Dinchat for the rest of their contact. He’s pretty sure that sort of distance would send Blue and Green into a depressive spiral, or possibly kill them. He watches them and he thinks about this, herding them around like sheep in the daytime. That night as he’s laying in bed after sweeping the house like a bat, he’s still thinking about it, and. Well.

That sort of clingy closeness clique that they have doesn’t suit a third person long. Even if they like them. Even if they love them, and it’s their precious baby brother. Sheik knows why Red can’t rely on them to keep his company; it’s nothing wrong, though he supposes it’s a little sad for Red. Or it would be if Red admitted to sadness anymore; four years have changed so much, but Red still wears the wounded alone look when he thinks no one is looking. Sheik is _always_ looking; he needs to care for his flock, after all.

Then there’s Vio. Vio is the middle kid, and he’s closer to Red than Blue and Green just by virtue of not being a twin. He and Red were constant playmates when their brothers paired off or stormed off or elsewise left them behind.

He’s kind enough, but Vio doesn’t mind loneliness like Red does. Sometimes he’s content to be alone.

Sheik isn’t sure Red has ever actually seen contentness, that he’d know the shape of it if it met him in the street. Red seeks and crawls and _craves_ and really it’s always been that way, it’s just more pronounced now without the fear of pain, and with the veneer of sweetness worn off by grief and aging.

Vio is usually content to _be,_ whether that’s alone or with his baby brother clamoring around him. When he isn’t content, the door is shut, and while Sheik thinks Red would still be welcome (unlike the twins, whom he’d seen Vio curse and throw things at more than once for unwelcome intrusions) Red does not press the door open to try. He just looks at it like a canyon he can’t cross and stares a long time and moves on.

Then there’s their father. Uncle Aldhard, Sheik thinks, does better than the circumstances deserve. He’s a kind person. He’s lonely – in different way to Red, in a different way to Sheik – and he loves his sons like they’ve made all the stars in the sky. He works long hours to make sure they’re provided for.

And when he’s home he’s happy to be surrounded by family. It’s just... not so often anymore, with one income instead of two, with four teenagers and a mortgage. The house has as many people living in it as it did when Sheik was sixteen and got the call that his mother wasn’t coming home, but it feels much emptier without Aunt Viilinn and he’s sure Aldhard feels it the most intensely of anyone, though he tries very hard to stay up beat in front of everyone.

(It’s a little annoying. Sheik understands putting on a brave face for the kids, but Aldhard isn’t that much older than he is, and he’s never enjoyed being patronized. He remembers being told _when people lie, it’s rarely really for_ _ **your**_ _benefit,_ and he bites his tongue about it. Aunt Impa generally had a good eye for people; he trusted her judgment, even if trying to understand the logic inside was as alien as explaining magecraft to someone without magic.)

The family shrine still has food left on it once in a while. Sheik had insisted on the shrine, and it seems like it’s... about as expected. Aldhard cringed when he saw it for months. It had made Red cry several times openly, and his brothers in a more reserved way. Years had gone by and they’d taken to talking to it now, so Sheik thinks it’s a success. He listens every time the Links pass by the family shrine and say good morning or good night to their mother.

Sheik's childhood home has become a source of desiderata. Outside of his grandparents coming and holiday visits, he rarely goes back to it. Instead he stays with the Vosses. He cooks, he helps clean, he herds after the Links and covers uncle Aldhard with a blanket when he dozes off on the couch. A few memorable times Sheik’s even carried him to bed. It’s infinitely easier than going back to the too big family home with his aunt and his cousin, but without his brother or his mother, and with far too many memories . He was a lonely person before the cave in, but after –

His hands curl up a little. Sheik smiles to himself and tips his head back, searching the ceiling for signs. There are none, of course. There have never been.

Belial is fine, he reminds himself, and will chew him out if he calls at this hour _just to check_. The Links are fine, Aldhard is fine. Auntie is fine, Paya is fine. He shuts his eyes. Aunt Purah – his cousins – They’re all well.

It’s late and he’s nervous and his heart aches. He climbs out of the bed and goes to pace the house on silent feet.

He passes by Red’s door and hears soft breathing. Maybe, he thinks with a soft sort of hope, they’ve made progress. Maybe Red realizes that he can go to Sheik, if he needs someone. They’re as close as brothers. Sheik has known him since Red was a toddler.

Sheik pushes open the door to peer in. Red is facing it, curled up in bed in a way that makes him tiny. The skin around his eye is bruised and shiny and Sheik thinks, _or maybe not_ about the progress.

Everyone grieved differently. Sheik – and then Red – had dealt with the hollow pain of loss by picking fights. It’s easy to forget your heart hurts a minute, if your fists ache and your chest feels hot and empty.

He wishes Red would reach out and ask for back up before he goes running into brawls, though. Sheik won’t stop him. He just – wants to be there for the fall out. To make sure _lonely_ isn’t compounded by _alone,_ because it’s miserable and he’d rather protect his family from it if he can.

He walks in long enough to pull the blanket over Red and slipped back out, intending to check the rest of his brood over. Just once more, he tells himself. He doesn’t believe it, but he does hope for a miracle.

Vio is reading. He didn’t even look up when Sheik poked his head in. The pages shuffle softly as they turn, and Vio’s voice rasps out, “Good evening.”

Sheik slants him a smile, doesn’t correct it to _morning,_ and hums just a little before ducking out again. Next was upstairs. The Voss house didn’t actually have enough bedrooms for all of its occupants, but it did have a spacious attic that he recalled being renovated while he was in middle school for the eldest Links. It had been a fun summer, if you called you and your brother herding a bunch of primary school brats around while your parents cursed and tried to work with power tools fun. Sheik recalled it fondly. Belial bristled like a cat presented with a washtub whenever it was brought up.

The moment the trap door is open Sheik knows the twins are asleep, because one of them is _snoring_ like a hung-over hinox. He walks to the bunk bed and examines both of them, their faces made pale by moonlight. Green is mumbling in his sleep – something about dinner plans – and Blue is too, though that’s far more amusing because the name _Sidon_ was tossed in there with considerable reverence.

Sheik stands by in the vague hopes of blackmail, but the evening holds no further riches for him. After a few minutes Blue rolled over and quieted without saying anything too incriminating. Sheik pulled the covers up to Blue’s chin, disappointed, and did the same for Green before he left. The trapdoor shut without a whisper, which was good. If he ever woke the twins by accident doing this, they’d probably barricade the door before bed every night, and then he’d have to check by window. No thank you.

 

Down a ladder and then a flight of stairs, Sheik reaches the only door in the house he’ll always knock on. Inside is the last one to check on, one more sheep to count before the shepherd can rest.

A sleepy acknowledgement issues from inside and leads his hand to the doorknob. He pushes the door open.

The room is dark, but with his eyes at their widest he can pick out the shapes of furniture, and the outline of Aldhard sitting up a moment before he sprawls back on the bed.

A somewhat dramatic groan drifts out. “Sheik, come in or step out, standing there with your eyes glowing like a cat is really freaky…”

It takes a certain level of exhaustion for uncle Aldhard to admit that he isn’t so above it all as he pretends most days. Sheik walks in out of appreciation for that, instead of hovering in the doorway for the sake of difficulty.

There’s no question posed for Sheik’s presence in the doorway; Aldhard rolled over and patted the space he cleared, where the bed was warmer from a body and smelled like safety.

It’s a little silly to rely on someone else, Sheik thinks, but there’s comfort in old rituals, and Aldhard seems happiest pretending that Sheik is still a child he can protect by acting brave.

Sheik settled on the edge of the bed, feeling a little strange being there, but not enough to leave.

“Bad dreams?” Aldhard asked, like he’s not been woken up. Sheik feels a fond sort of exasperation well up.

“Just checking on everyone.”

“Oh.” Aldhard shifts in bed. Sheik watches the wall instead of his uncle.

He looks down when a warm hand grasps his. “That’s okay.” Aldhard murmurs, all sleepy warmth. It’s almost nauseating how kind he is.

Sheik squeezes his hand with a smile curling his mouth he knows will go unseen and murmurs, “I love you.”

Aldhard shifts in bed. “I love you too, Sheik.” He yawned. “I’m exhausted. We can talk in the morning, if you want to.”

Sheik almost tells him _no shit_ but it seems unkind for the hour on top of being crass. He rubs his thumb over the back of Aldhard’s hand.

“Go to sleep.” He suggested, voice quiet.

“Are you sleeping in here?” Aldhard asked, and. Sheik isn’t yet sure. Maybe he will, if he goes upstairs and Red doesn’t look like a fragile doll. He worries about the youngest. Red doesn’t have a Belial to keep his worst impulses in check, and Sheik sometimes thinks Vio encourages them.

Speaking somehow seems too loud for the hour. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay.” Aldhard doesn’t sound hurt, just sleepy and accepting. Sheik feels his heart swell and is grateful for a moment that that no longer embarrasses him (the twins are wading through the worst of that, adolescent awkwardness, as if adoring someone is a weakness or something that need be jealously guarded. He doesn’t miss feeling that way, or being in high school, at all).

Aldhard continues, eyes already shut, “Wherever you want to sleep, you know. Don’t worry about knocking.”

Sheik’s lips quirk. He wants to remind Aldhard that gunshots hurt, and that he knows there’s a service pistol in the nightstand drawer. He says, “I don’t want to intrude.” instead of either of those things.

Aldhard cracks open an eye again to pin him with a look, as if a few sharp words were enough to cow him. “Talib al-Amin.”

Because it’s late, and because he’s twenty and cannot be grounded for impertinence, Sheik laughed a little _instead_ of cowing like he maybe did once a decade past. “Don’t stress yourself out when you’re tired, uncle.” He pulled Aldhard’s hand up, fingers laced in his, to nuzzle the knuckles. “I’m just going to check on Red again, and then I’ll sleep.”

“You’d better.” Aldhard muttered, as if he himself shouldn’t be asleep.

“I have today off.” Sheik said, “I’m sorry I woke you. Rest well.”

He got up to go.

Upstairs he found Red’s bedroom empty. Across the hall, Vio’s light is out and when Sheik looks inside, the book is shut on the nightstand. From the little moonlight through the window he can pick out two shapes on the bed, breathing soft in tandem.

He shut the door and returned downstairs alone, and ends up back in Aldhard’s room. He’s not successful in not waking him – or maybe Aldhard hadn’t gone back to sleep at all – but he can’t complain about the warmth from an arm slung over his waist when he’s laid down. The sound of someone else breathing nearby made it so he could shut out his worries to rest ( _just focus on the noise, you’re both alive, you are alive_ ).

Tomorrow he’ll wake far too early and not doze off again, because he still struggles. Tomorrow he’ll consider faking sleep to keep his uncle from worrying.

Tonight he hopes for good dreams, and thanks the goddesses that everyone is alright for the moment. Focuses on the noise of someone else alive nearby.

He shuts his eyes and, eventually, he sleeps. He dreams of caverns deep under the city, filled with roots and demons and the dust of eons crushing his lungs. He dreams of being trapped there in a coffin made of glass, and wakes up crying a name he doesn’t recognize, and can’t explain why when pressed.

(The memory lingers. He has more dreams like it in the coming months. As in other things, Red is the same as him; he sleeps and he dreams of a place he’s never seen, is someone he’s never known, and Sheik worries this will be like the six months where Red kept murmuring summoning spells in his sleep and very nearly bringing lynels into the house by accidental magic.)

(Sheik has no idea how close to correct his guesses fall. He herds his sheep without knowing the future, and it creeps up to him like a thief in cover of night.)

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A modern Hyrule AU that still has magic and fantasy - though Hyrule has a curse on it so any magic used within the borders is ripped away from its caster before it can be made useful.  
> The Links are siblings living with their widowed father, Aldhard Kamala Voss. Sheik is the orphaned son of a family friend and lurks in their house like a particularly fussy bat.  
> Lots of world building and a lot of things that probably don't get adequately explained in this particular story. This started as a character study for Sheik, who in this iteration is that family member that deals with their problems by thinking entirely too much about everyone else's.


End file.
